ENCHANTRESS

Books and grimoires are stacked high on tables and desks, pages flicked to spells of power and cures of ailments. Empty glass jars of varying colors and mortars and pestles– some of wood, some of stone– are placed on any available table space. People can’t help but be drawn into your presence; they travel from far and wide for your aid. You have a natural gift as your careful touch heals and your wisdom pulls back together their fractured pieces to reinvigorate and heal them. 

They say the scent of warm vanilla and sandalwood lingers in your wake as you flit about your apothecary, searching for that singular ingredient to complete a tonic… fitting for someone as gentle and inviting as you. Yet just under the surface is a magnetizing force that cannot be ignored. You’ve noticed that challenging someone’s stare causes them to shift and glance down, as though all of their uncovered truths are on the verge of display. They bravely look at you again, your dark, tumbled hair taking a glossy sheen in a beam of sunshine from the roof’s skylight. They’re hoping to catch your eye so your piercing gaze mesmerizes them once more, as though they are begging to be figured out by you. Knowing very well how it feels to be watched, you allow yourself to glance up and lock eyes with theirs. After the briefest moment, you break the tension with a soft smile and look down to continue with your work. You reach for the fresh heliotrope flowers from a vase and a vessel of raw pistachios from the shelf– one for a healing salve and another for an upset stomach. You grind the pistachios in a mortar and pestle while the flowers steep in hot water as the scents mingle with your subtle and warm perfume, leaving those around you utterly spellbound.